


baby you so sexy, yo voice is so lovely~

by distira



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distira/pseuds/distira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>awkward, failtastic phone sex.  brought forth by <a href="http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=715557#t715557">this lovely comment thread</a> in which it was decided, amongst other things, that javi would be hilariously awkward at phone sex and would probably do that adorable high pitched giggle of his the whole time.  thus, this is dedicated to <span><a href="http://meretricula.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://meretricula.livejournal.com/"><b>meretricula</b></a></span> and <span><a href="http://dreamofthem.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://dreamofthem.livejournal.com/"><b>dreamofthem</b></a></span> ♥ ilu both</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby you so sexy, yo voice is so lovely~

It starts on the bus ride home after a match, when Javi's phone buzzes. He squints at it, the screen too bright in the dark. It's from Iker. _what ru wearing??_

Javi glances three rows ahead of him. Iker's leaning against the window of the bus, his phone glowing in the dark. _tracksuit same as you why_ , Javi sends. He stretches his legs out as best he can, crossing his ankles underneath the seat in front of him. On his left, Fernando shifts a little bit, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

Iker's reply comes less than a minute later. _what underwear???_ Javi's halfway through tapping out a row of question marks when a second text comes. _please say the black soy ones_.

 _…boxers, wtf?_ , Javi sends eventually, frowning at his phone. He pulls himself up out of the seat again and looks ahead at Iker, who's furiously typing on his phone. A few seconds later, Javi has another text. _not what u were supposed to say_ is followed by _lets try again u ask me tho_.

 _ask you what_ , Javi asks. He sits back down and keeps his phone out. _what im wearing duh_ is Iker's response, so Javi asks him.

 _nothing ;)_

"What the fuck, you liar," Javi says out loud. Next to him, Fernando stirs.

"Huh?"

"Oh," Javi sais, startled. "Uh, nothing." He hides his phone in his lap.

"Mkay," Fernando says, closing his eyes again. Javi reaches down and pulls a piece of paper out of his bag. He crumples it into a ball and lobs it over the seats, satisfied when it hits Iker. _we are not sexting_ , he texts.

 _come oooonnnn_ , Iker texts back right away. _but im hard_. Javi doesn't reply; a few minutes later, _party pooper :(_ shows up on his phone.

 _suck it_ , he sends back, and realizes too late that he should've said something less suggestive. _u kno i would_ , Iker replies, and Javi groans, banging his head against the window.

"We're almost back," Fernando says sleepily, and Javi doesn't bother to tell him that he's not upset because of the length of the ride.

A few days later, a rare day off, Javi's phone rings. He picks up without looking at caller ID and wanders into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. "'lo?" He says.

"What are you wearing," Iker asks, only it's more of a demand than a question.

"Uh," Javi says. He looks down at himself. "Underwear from the _Soy_ shoot," he says, because it's a day off and it's only 11 A.M. and this is the first time he's gotten off of the couch all morning.

"Wait, seriously?" Iker asks, and it's an actual question this time.

"Yes?" Javi says. "They're the weird patterned ones, the ones with dollar bills on them I think? Because I haven't done laundry for like, two weeks and they're my last clean pair." He pulls a Coke out of the fridge and lets the door swing shut.

"Dammit, we were doing so well," Iker groans. "Okay, I'm gonna call you back and you're gonna say that you're wearing underwear from the _Soy_ shoot and that you're glad I called. Got it?"

"No," Javi says. "Why am I saying this?"

"Because you talking about your laundry is a boner killer," Iker tells him.

Javi laughs awkwardly. "Are you trying to have phone sex?"

"Yes. Pick up when I call you back," Iker says.

"Hang on, hang on," Javi says. "Really? Hombre, I don't think I'm gonna be very good at this."

"That's what you said about blowjobs, too, but you were wrong," Iker tells him, and hangs up.

Javi grabs his drink and wanders back out into the living room. He sprawls out on the couch, stretching his legs, and figures, if he's going to have phone sex, he might as well be comfortable. Then he thinks about actually having phone sex and starts laughing to himself, and it's his usual laugh when Iker's involved, high pitched and kind of awkward.

He's still giggling when Iker calls back, so Javi answers and doesn't say anything, trying to get his breath under control. "What are you wearing?" Iker asks, and his voice is kind of breathy now, a little bit lower than usual. Javi wonders if he's jacking off.

"Hey, are you jacking off already?" He asks. "Wait. Oops. Uh, I'm wearing underwear from the _Soy_ shoot. And, I, uh. I'm glad you called?"

"Good, that's good," Iker says, and he's definitely touching himself, he talks enough during sex that Javi knows what he sounds like turned on.

"Uh," Javi says. "What are you wearing?"

"Dude, no," Iker says, and Javi frowns into the phone. "Nothing. But like. Tell me what you'd do."

"What I'd do if what?" Javi asks.

"If you were here," Iker says, panting a little.

"You could just come over and I could do it," Javi says, grumbling a bit. He shifts on the couch and wonders if he should take his boxers off. "How far ahead of me are you?" He asks.

"Oh my _god_ ," Iker grunts, and Javi's pretty sure it's not the good kind of 'oh my god'. "Okay. You know what I'd do if I was there?"

"Sure? Or you could just come over, seriously," Javi says, but Iker cuts him off.

"I'd push you back against the couch and we'd make out for a while but then I'd get distracted 'cause you'd be hard –your dick had better be hard by now," Iker says, and Javi drops a hand to palm himself, trying not to laugh again. "But I wouldn't go for it right away, okay, because you're being fucking impossible right now so you can deal with being teased for a while."

"Hey," Javi protests. "You're the one who wants _phone sex_ when you could just drive over here." He can't quite hold in his laugh this time and he's not even sure why the whole situation is funny to him but it is, it's awkward and funny and he's halfway hard despite it all.

Iker grunts again, but it sounds more like what he usually sounds like when Javi has a hand down his pants. "Shut up and you might like it," he says, so Javi doesn't reply, just lets Iker keep talking. "I'd go down your body, but not to your dick, maybe your thighs instead, especially if you just shaved or waxed or whatever-"

"I do not shave my legs," Javi protests. "Seriously, Iker-"

"-so I'd just be sucking and sucking and you'll have a bruise your practice shorts won't cover, so good luck explaining yourself- take your fucking underwear off, Javi, hombre-"

"They're down," Javi says, and his voice is kind of strangled now because he's got his underwear hanging off of one ankle and his cock is fully hard now. "Hang on, though, would you seriously give me a hickey on my _knee_?" He giggle a little, awkward and high pitched, and wishes for the millionth time that Iker would just come over.

"Yes, I seriously fucking would, you'd have the best bruise and everyone could see it-"

"Do you have a thing for my knees?" Javi asks.

"No, don't be an idiot," Iker says, "I have a thing for you."

"Oh," Javi says. "Hey, you know I have a thing for you, too, right?"

"You haven't hung up yet, so I'm assuming," Iker says, and then, "but your knee isn't exactly the best part of your body so we'd have to make out some more and I'd be on top because you're too fucking tall-"

"Hey!"

"-and eventually you'd start jacking me and we'd have to move around because I'd want to start fingering you, can't wait to get my dick in you-"

Javi's stroking himself, fucking up into his fist, but he's laughing into the phone all the same, turned on and embarrassed at the same time.

"The fuck are you laughing at," Iker asks, cutting himself off. "Are you laughing at my dick?"

"What? No-"

"Because my dick is like heaven, okay, it is beautiful and you love it and it's the best fucking ride in the world and I know you like it okay, you're a screamer," Iker says, but he doesn't sound mad, just breathy, like he's just finished a match and he's panting, and Javi knows he must be getting close so he starts stroking himself faster. "Also, dude, participate, please."

"Christ, I- Iker," Javi says. "I don't know what to say, what do you want me to say?"

"Anything, come on just keep talking, what would you do when I have three fingers in you and you want my dick," Iker pants.

"Fuck," Javi grunts. "Fuck, come on, I'd want you to fuck me, Iker, seriously, what do you want me to say? I don't know, okay, I'd want you to put it in, but-"

"Just keep talking, come on, I'd be fucking you, okay, my dick would be in you and you'd be doing that awkward laughing thing you do because your hip flexors are ticklish," Iker prompts, and he sounds wrecked, even over the phone.

"Fine, okay, I'd make you jack me, you don't get all the fun, okay, I'd make you touch me-"

"Touch you where," Iker pushes, and he sounds close, so close.

"Touch my balls first, then my dick," Javi says, struggling to not laugh and come at the same time. "Touch my dick until I come-" he loses the battle not to laugh for what seems like the millionth time and it turns into a moan halfway through because he twists his fist over the head of his cock just right and spills over his fist, the intensity of his orgasm startling him as his hips jerk up into his hand.

When he comes down, he can hear Iker catching his breath, the sound of it harsh through the phone speaker.

"Hombre," Iker says. "Javi Martinez. You are 22 years old and you still can't say the word 'dick' with a straight face?"

Javi groans, leaning over to pick up his underwear and wipe his hand on them before he collapses back against the couch, boneless. "Maybe," he says, "you should just fucking _come over_ and we can avoid the whole issue."

Iker ignores him. "We're totally sexting on the bus next time," he says. "I bet you won't type it, either, and you'll be laughing and Fernando will want to know why."

"I hate you," Javi grumbles good-naturedly. "Also, I'm lying naked on my couch right now."

"Does that mean you're ready for round two?" Iker laughs.

"Only if you get your ass over here," Javi says.

"You love my ass," Iker tells him.

"Sure," Javi agrees, and then he hangs up.

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.


End file.
